ABSTRACT
In the spring of 1572, when he had just returned from Italy and was getting ready to sail for the Low Countries, Thomas Stukeley had time to write a last and desperate letter to Philip II. Rome had backed him but had also let him know that for the moment there were no resources to be put at his disposal for the enterprise of Ireland. In Spain, his hopes had been buried in the previous year, due in great part to his own character, which Zayas, for instance, had found most unfit for any military operation demanding a degree of secrecy. Only the Low Countries, where a growing community of English exiles had settled down, and where a replacement in power was about to take place, offered an opportunity. But even if it did, the possibilities of personal success cannot have been great. The land was in turmoil, Alba was finding enormous difficulties in his task, and money was scant. The idea, therefore, of convincing the leading voices in the land of an intervention against England using the Irish backdoor cannot have been contemplated with optimism. Stukeley’s ambition, presided by the dream of a piece of land over which to exert personal rule, had not diminished, but there were not many doors left on which to knock. His personal situation had deteriorated a great deal: he had a son to bring up, servants to feed and pay, lodgings to rent, and little money at his disposal. The Duke of Feria, his powerful advocate in the past, had already died, and his widow was in no position to relieve Stukeley financially. Philip, therefore, once more represented the only true possibility for success. But this time the approach had to be direct. Nothing but a personal letter to the monarch would serve the purpose, and it would have to sound convincing.
